


be my little darling

by liionne



Series: Oh darlin', I need you [2]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, M/M, Modern Era, Mpreg, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Skinny!Steve
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-28
Updated: 2014-10-28
Packaged: 2018-02-23 00:14:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,201
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2526890
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/liionne/pseuds/liionne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Captain Rogers? This is Dr. Harvey, from SHIELD. We ran your tests overnight, and got the results back. We've confirmed that you're pregnant. We'll need you to come in sometime soon so we can do a few health checks, and make sure you're not at any risk. It's still early days- you should be about 6 weeks along. If you like, you can come in this Friday at 10, and we'll go over everything?"</p><p>Steve listens in silence, and stares dead ahead. He chews his lip. There's something like excitement, and something like anxiety growing in the pit of his stomach. As well as a baby. Oh god.</p><p><b>A sequel to:</b> <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/2480813">stay with me (you're all i need)</a></p>
            </blockquote>





	be my little darling

**Author's Note:**

> Apologies for any mistakes. I am just so done with this that I'm putting it out here before I collapse. I apologise, too, for any info that may be wrong. I've never been pregnant myself, and as a prospective vet student, I know way more about dog pregnancies than people.
> 
> Now with a new and edited beginning!

Everything is fine for all of five seconds. Or at least, that's how it feels. After years of being lost to one another, they had found each other, and it took a while, but... well, they were almost back to normal. Bucky had retraced the outline of his teeth on Steve's neck, his bite pattern, claiming him once more just to make sure that everyone knew. It was a good feeling, too. To know that no matter what they had both been through, they still belonged to one another.

But then things start getting bad again, as they were always going to. The Universe simply cannot allow Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes to be happy, not for too long.

Steve's heat, whilst he's like this, is a violent affair. They tear the bed sheets and the mattress, more often than not, they break the head board, they break the bed, they punch holes in the god damn walls-

And when it's over, Steve just curls into his side, and they decided that they can just leave the clean up until tomorrow.

But that's when he starts changing. Bucky notices it first; as he picks Steve up to throw him down onto the sparring mat, he makes a surprised sound. He throws him down, and Steve grunts when he connects with the mat.

"What?" He asks, rolling over onto his hands and knees and pushing himself to standing.

"I don't know," Bucky says, turning his metal wrist around in circles, a method of recalibration. "You just feel light today."

Steve grins, and curls his hand into a fist. "I haven't had breakfast yet," He says, and then he throws a punch towards Bucky's abdomen.

But he just keeps on getting lighter.

He's in some odd kind of in-between stage, lanky and lean, and he feels more than a little self conscious as Bruce checks the results of his blood tests. He hides beneath one of Bucky's hoodies, his hand held in his. He's 5 foot seven, and he's 120 pounds. Something is wrong, and every one in the room - not even the room, the _tower_ \- knows it.

"Your cells are degenerating, Steve." Bruce says, and he says it like it personally hurts. Maybe it does. Bucky deflates by his side, but Steve stares on.

"What does that mean?"

"It means," Bruce says, taking his glasses off and setting them on his desk. "That you're reverting to your old self. The serum's worn off. And if we had of done this a week or so ago, I would've said it'll probably reach a point and stop - with your cells being permanently affected to some degree - but I think it's obvious that they're not. There's no cut of point with this. I'm sorry."

Bruce has no reason to be sorry. It's not like it's his fault. Although, he is absolutely right.

Steve weighs himself using the bathroom scales. 98 pounds. He measures himself. 5 foot 4. He's officially back to the way he was before the serum, and it hurts.

He sits on the sofa in the living room, staring at the television. So it's not like they haven't planned for this. Bucky's taking over as Captain America. Whether or not they're announcing the change of the man beneath the mask is still undecided, but Pepper's writing out the pros and cons for them. They've had inhalers littered around the apartment since Steve hit 130 pounds, and they've informed everyone who needs to be informed of what's happening. They've talked about it so many times, talked it over,m made sure they're both okay.

So why can't he stop crying?

He whittles it down to this: Erskine's life's work is gone. The work he died for. And all Steve got out of it was, what- 8 years? Sure, he was frozen for a hell of a long time, but that doesn't count, he wasn't using it. And there's nothing anyone can do.

Bucky finds him slumped over on the couch. He's wearing a hoodie, still, and he looks so small and so fragile. Bucky reminds himself that's because he _is_ so small, and so fragile. He presses a kiss to the top of his blonde head, and huffs a sigh.

"Want me to leave you alone?" He asks, but Steve shakes his head so violently Bucky wonders if it'll fall off. He doesn't speak, though, so Bucky shifts to sit on the sofa and pull Steve into his lap, where they assume a position they haven't been able to have for a long time. Steve buries his face in Bucky's chest, over his heart, and Bucky presses his lips to his neck, to his Mark.

If Steve sobs, no one talks about it.

~*~

And that's how Steve Rogers becomes more of an omega than he's ever been before.

He's going to work for SHIELD intel. He's small,could easy fit into tight spaces and eavesdrop innocently on conversations, and he already makes a pretty good spy. But other than that- well, he's like something out of a 1940s Good Housekeeping book.

He cooks, he cleans, and he keeps their apartment running smoothly. He has their laundry washed, ironed and back in the wardrobe faster than lightning, learns to cook a hell of a lot of new meals using new, fancy ingredients. He does a lot of moving things around. Not decorating so much as moving things around. He creates a nest in the wardrobe - the _wardrobe_ \- and when he realises what he's doing he gets rid of it all and puts everything away again. He does a little bit of decorating after that, because before they had been way too caught up in saving the world to wonder whether the living room walls should be Caramel Cream or Leather Satchel.

Bucky hates it.

But Steve doesn't know that. So when Bucky decides he can't take it one night, when Steve is washing the dishes, he smashes one. That definitely gets the little omega's attention.

"Well thanks for that, Buck," He huffs, bending down to scoop the pieces off the floor. "Now we don't have a set anymore."

"Are you really _that_ bothered about having a full set of china?" Bucky snaps.

In response, Steve glares. "Maybe I am. So _what_ if I am?"

"So I hate it!" Bucky says. Steve stars on with wide eyes at the sudden outburst. "I hate that it took two weeks for you to turn into Martha fucking Stewart. Steve, you're acting like a little old lady. A little old _omega_ lady. You didn't act like this even back in the fucking forties and I know, because I _remember_." He says it with a note of triumph in his voice, Steve notes. "Snap out of it."

Steve seems to consider that, his face falling slowly.

"I'm just getting used to it again." He says quietly.

Bucky nods fervently. "I know that. I know." He removes the pieces of plate from Steve's hands, and holds them, his fingers curling around Steve's. It still sends electricity up Steve's spine. "But- you're killing me, Stevie. You're not happy. Don't pretend being Housewife of the Year makes you happy."

Steve looks down at their hands, and huffs a sigh. Bucky's right, and Steve _knows_ that he's right, and Steve also knows that Bucky knows that he's right too. Or something.

Steve wraps frail arms around him, and presses his cheek against Bucky's chest. It takes all of too seconds for Bucky to follow, arms wrapping around his waist, and Steve feels safe. He hears Bucky sigh, but he only pushes in closer.

"I'll arrange for a check up with a SHIELD doctor." Steve says. "They want a physical, a full work up before I can start, anyway."

"I know." Bucky murmurs.

There's a waver in Steve's voice. "Think they're going to turn me down?"

"No." Bucky answers. His voice is different from where Steve stands; it's lower, he can feel the soft rumbling against his cheek. "No, I don't. Fury knows better."

Steve nods. He doesn't quite believe it, but he nods. He curls into Bucky, and Bucky wraps around him, and he tries not to think about it for a while.

It takes two weeks to arrange another check up, but by then Bucky's been injured in a battle as Captain America, and Steve doesn't go to his physical. He stays by Bucky's side, holding his hand.

~*~

Another week, and Sam drops in on them by surprise, and because visits to their apartment in Brooklyn are quite rare, Steve stays home to see him. Admittedly, seeing Sam, or the idea of seeing him, scares the shit out of him. Sam hasn't seen him since he was big. But someone must have already briefed him, most likely Bucky, because he still walks into the apartment beaming like absolutely nothing is wrong, and gives Steve a hug when he's done crying. Sam, thankfully, understands that he's just a little overemotional right now. Probably due to the fact that his life has taken a dramatic turn for the worse.

He spends another two weeks feeling sick. He spends his mornings by the toilet, and Bucky worries the entire time, stroking his hair, rubbing his back. Steve tells him to go away, but Bucky stays regardless. It's a good job, too. Steve might have told him to go but he feels so _clingy_ , like all he wants is to be close to Bucky. His alpha presses a kiss to Steve's temple before he wretches, and sighs when nothing comes up. There's nothing left.

And _then_ he gets around to his physical, a good 6 weeks or so after he was supposed to.

"Just a few questions to start off, Captain Rogers," The doctor says, giving him a smile. "And then we'll get you started on a few of our tests."

Steve nods. He understands. Bucky's waiting outside for him, but he can't see him, he doesn't have x-ray vision. Being called Captain Rogers, still, makes him feel like a fake. He hangs his head a little. He's starting to feel sick again.

"You're an omega, that's correct?"

"Yeah," Steve nods, looking up only out of politeness.

She smiles, and taps at her keyboard. "When was your last heat?"

"About 6 weeks ago." Steve says. He remembers; it was right before he started getting tiny. He's due another in 6 weeks time.

"Excellent," She says, tapping filling the room. "And you're not pregnant?"

"No." Steve answers.

But then, he pauses.

Sickness. Heightened emotions. Being clingy with his alpha.

But he and Bucky had used protection, right?

Wrong.

The doctor is looking at him with raised eyebrows.

"I've been feeling sick. And- being sick." Steve says, blue eyes a lot wider than usual. "And I just- just had my heat, and I've been over-emotional, and- and-"

"So you've been showing symptoms of early pregnancy." She nods. She turns, and writes that down on his chart before she reaches into one of the cupboards by her desk, pulling out a small, plastic jar. "We'll need a urine sample. We can have the tests done by tomorrow- bathroom's just that door there."

Steve follows where she points, and then hands in his sample. He gives her his phone number for a more secure line - i.e: one Bucky won't be able to hear on - and leaves. When he comes out, Bucky raises his eyebrows. "That was quick."

"Yeah," Steve huffs, hands in his pockets. He's itching to set them over his stomach, but he refrains, letting them linger in his trouser pockets instead. "They just wanted to run some tests. I'll get the results tomorrow."

Bucky pauses for a moment, like he's deciding whether or not to believe that, and then nods, giving Steve a soft smile. "Lets go home." He says, an arm wrapping around Steve's shoulders, and automatically, Steve snuggles in close. He could go out right now and buy a home pregnancy test, he thinks, as they walk back to their apartment. He could just tell Bucky he was going for groceries, or something. But he doesn't. He just goes home, and curls into Bucky's side, and wonders why he's not telling him what's going on.

~*~

He gets the call whilst Bucky's out on his run.

"Captain Rogers? This is Dr. Harvey, from SHIELD. We ran your tests overnight, and got the results back. We've confirmed that you're pregnant. We'll need you to come in sometime soon so we can do a few health checks, and make sure you're not at any risk. It's still early days- you should be about 6 weeks along. If you like, you can come in this Friday at 10, and we'll go over everything?"

Steve listens in silence, and stares dead ahead. He chews his lip. There's something like excitement, and something like anxiety growing in the pit of his stomach. As well as a baby. Oh god.

"Captain?"

"Yeah." He says. "Yeah, that's fine. I'll be there."

"Alright, Captain." She says. She sounds like she's smiling. "I'll see you Friday at 10. And congratulations."

Steve murmurs a thank you and a good bye as he hangs up, phone held in his hand. He's still sat like that when Bucky comes in.

"Steve, you'll never guess what I- Steve?" Bucky asks. He's sweaty, with his hair pulled back in a bun at the nape of his neck, though a few strands have fell into his eyes. He looks amazing, to be quite frank, but it doesn't break Steve out of his reverie. "Stevie? What's wrong? Is it the hospital?"

"I-" Steve begins, and then pauses. Stops himself short. "They just want to go over my test results." He lies. "They said it's nothing bad, but- yeah."

Bucky stares at him, gives him that calculating look, as if he can't decide whether or not he's telling the truth. But he must decide that his omega would never lie to him, because he gives a small smile, and presses a kiss to Steve's cheek, before heading off to the shower.

"You're more than welcome to join me," Bucky winks, his shirt in his hand. Has Steve ever been able to say no to Bucky, shirtless or not? No. He hasn't. And he's not about to start now. He grins, feeling a little more at ease as he goes and hops into the shower with Bucky.

~*~

The health checks are fine. Though Steve might be tiny, he's healthy, by the standard of modern medicine. The doctor tells him to call her if he has any worries, and they book ahead for his 12 week scan. On his way home, Steve resolves to tell Bucky what's going on.

He doesn't.

He doesn't know _why_. He rests his head on Bucky's shoulder that night, but he doesn't say a word. He worries at his lip until they go to bed; Bucky's hands curl over Steve's stomach as he presses his chest against his back, and it sends a shiver down Steve's spine. He'll tell him, honestly, he will. Just... not now.

~*~

Natasha catches him out.

"Steve... are you pregnant?"

He almost chokes on his coffee.

They've been out for a total of fifteen minutes, have just arrived at their faourite coffee store, and Steve had sneakily ordered decaf whilst Natasha and Sam had read the menu. He thought it had went unnoticed, but he forgot- Natasha notices _everything_.

She's been looking at him sideways since they left his place, out of the corners of her eyes. Sam hasn't been paying any attention at all, but Natasha must know. There's no getting anything past Natasha.

"Yeah." He sighs, fingers wrapping around his mug. Sam's still gone, gone off to get himself a brownie or something, yet they still talk in quiet voices. "But I'm only eight weeks, so you can't tell anyone, alright?"

"Alright." She nods, a smile curling her lips. "I have to say, I'm surprised. I thought you and Bucky would do it the proper way, get married, get a house..."

"He doesn't know." Steve admits, flushing up to the tips of his ears. He drops his gaze down to the table, and when he looks up, Natasha looks completely unphased.

"How long have you known?" She asks.

Steve shrugs his shoulders. "Two weeks? Almost three."

She nods slowly. "Steve, don't you think you should tell him? If _I_  was pregnant-"

"You're pregnant?" Sam asks, as he sits back down, brownie in hand. It looks good. _Really_ good. Steve bites his tongue, and focuses his attention on the situation.

Sam looks between the two of them. Not only is Sam incredibly brave, and amazingly sympathetic, but he's also amazingly smart. _Unbelievably_ smart. He catches onto the situation within seconds, and then he's looking at Steve with raised eyebrows.

" _You're_ pregnant?" He asks, and Steve winces. "Congratulations, man."

"Shush, shush," Steve frowns. "I'm not out of the first trimester yet, so you've got to keep quiet."

"And Bucky doesn't know." Natasha adds. There's something like a smirk on her lips.

"He doesn't?" Sam asks, looking to Steve. "Damn."

Steve buries himself low in his seat, hand sneaking over his stomach. His plan to keep this under wraps until he had either a) told Bucky or b) reached the second trimester - or c) a combination of both a) and b) - has failed. He's going to have to tell Bucky, he thinks. He decides to do it that night, before he hears it from someone else.

~*~

It doesn't happen.

Steve is nine weeks, sat in the tower whilst the Avengers are off... Avenging. He has the news on whilst he worries about Bucky's safety, a baby book open in his lap.

He thinks everything is going smoothly, until he sees a shot of Iron Man hurtling through the air, having been hit by a robotic arm, sending him off course. Steve watches on the TV as he gets closer and closer to Avengers Tower-

And then Steve realises that he's _in_ Avenger's Tower.

Thankfully, Tony crashes in on the other side of the room, missing Steve completely. Steve is so startled that he doesn't think to move as the beta stands, pulling his helmet off and huffing a sigh.

"Christ. Was _not_ expecting that, at all. Look at that- do you know how much glass costs? It's expensive. Especially when they know I'm buying. I swear, I- Is that a baby book? Rogers, are you _pregnant_?"

Steve doesn't even move. Thank god that Tony's comm is in his helmet, where no one else (see: Bucky) can hear his exclamation, and then Steve as he tells him to keep his mouth _shut_.

~*~

Bucky and Natasha are sparring. It's only been a few days since Tony found out, and so far, he's doing a good job of keeping it a secret - especially for someone with such a big mouth.

It all goes to shit when Tony walks into the room. Clint is sat beside him on the sofa, and Pepper's in the arm chair, on her laptop. Bruce is reading some sort of scientific journal, and Thor and Jane are talking in hushed tones. They do that a lot, whenever Thor's home.

Tony stalks in and claps eyes on Steve, and with a big grin, he says, "Y'know if you're looking for baby names, I'd go for Tony. Can be unisex, Tony with a 'y', or Toni with an 'i'. I think whatever sprog you have'd really-" He must realise that he's totally outing Steve, as he slows, his voice trailing off to nothing. "suit... it."

Everyone is staring at Steve, and he blushes.

Once they've all been given the "it's a secret and you can't tell anyone else and Bucky doesn't know so shut the hell up or I'll end you with my tiny hands" speech, they swear their silence, and Steve decides that sooner rather than later, he's going to have to tell Bucky.

~*~

At ten weeks, his scent changes.

Bucky is clingy all damn day. As his trimester has progressed, Steve has gotten less and less clingy, and less and less sick, but he wakes up with Bucky's nose pressed to his Claim Mark strong arms wrapped tight around him, and he huffs.

"You smell different." Bucky murmurs. He looks at Steve with narrowed eyes, concentrating, and Steve blushes.

"You're imagining things." He says as they leave the house, Bucky's hand in his. They're going over to the tower to take advantage of Stark's massive home cinema complex thing, and Steve's starting to regret it. Not only because of Bucky being totally clingy, but because Steve feels achy, and tired- the weird pregnancy dreams are starting to kick in, and he was vomiting quietly in the bathroom at 3am.

There's the hint of a bump between his hips, now. Enough for him to notice, but not really enough for it to be seen unless he takes his shirt off - because he keeps wearing baggy shirts. It's kind of nice, his bump. But it's also a painful reminder that he hasn't told Bucky yet, and that 12 week scan is fast approaching.

They settle with everyone else in the tower, Bucky having pulled Steve into his lap. Clint presses play with a snicker, having chosen the movie: What to Expect When You're Expecting.

Steve glares at him with the heat of a thousand suns.

He gets halfway through the movie before he has to just leave. He disentangles himself from Bucky with a kiss to his alpha's cheek, and heads for the balcony, knowing a little cool air should help him feel a bit better.

Of course, Bucky doesn't let him get too far.

"Stevie," He murmurs, joining him on the balcony. He wraps his arms around Steve's waist and presses a kiss to his temple,and Steve sighs. "What's wrong, Stevie?"

Steve can't even- he doesn't know how to get the words past his lips. There's a million things wrong. He's tired, and he's sore, and he's pregnant, and his boyfriend, his alpha, doesn't know yet, and he doesn't know how he's going to react, and everyone already knows and the fun's all gone out of it and-

"I'm pregnant."

Well, it's as easy as that.

Bucky exhales against his neck, and then paws at him. Two hands, one metal and one flesh turn him around so he can face Bucky, look up into those big grey eyes.

"What?" Bucky asks, brow creasing just a little.

Steve smiles. A big, genuine smile,because Bucky looks so _cute_. He looks insecure and nervous and disbelieving but he looks adorable, and god, Steve can't help but smile.

"I'm pregnant." He repeats. "Ten weeks. I- I didn't know how to tell you. I- I found out at that physical..."

Bucky laughs, incredulous. He's not looking at Steve, he's looking at the skyline behind him. But then he pulls Steve close, and buries his face in his neck, hands holding him tight. Steve melts, smiling into Bucky's chest.

"I can't believe you didn't tell me, punk." Bucky says, his eyes watery, glassy as he pulls away. "Keeping it quiet all this time- I didn't even- I had no idea- We have to tell the others! Can we tell the others yet?"

Steve gives a sheepish smile as Bucky pulls away, framing Steve's face with his hands. "They, uh- they already know." He says.

"All of them?" Bucky asks, eyebrows raising.

Steve nods, lips pursing. But Bucky laughs brightly, disbelievingly, and Steve smiles too, pressing a kiss to Bucky's palm. "Sorry."

"No- No." Bucky smiles. "No. Less people to tell." He grins. He leans in and kisses Steve, their lips meeting slowly at first, and then harder, faster. They don't make it back to movie night. Instead, Steve shows off his brand new baby bump in the bedroom, and for the first time since he returned to his tiny, 90 pound, asthmatic self, he feels pretty damn good.

~*~

"Now this'll be cold- brace yourself."

Steve nods, and braces himself as instructed, but- well. It's colder than expected. He hisses, and Bucky chuckles as he holds his hand by his bedside.

"If you two want to just watch the screen-" The doctor says, as she presses the transducer to Steve's skin, moving it around until the screen flickers to life. "-we'll see baby. Right there."

She doesn't even have to point; the baby is far bigger than Steve expected, and he balks as he stares at it, at their _baby_. He feels Bucky fidget beside him, his breathing somewhat ragged.

"And there's baby's heartbeat." She smiles, pointing to a pulsing on the screen that makes Steve's own heart skip a beat.

His bump is mighty big now. He can still wear his own clothes, but they're getting tight, and it's obvious to everyone he meets. It's not quite at the "oh wow let me touch it does it move" stage, but Steve still feels big. Bucky grins down at him when Steve looks up; Bucky's eyes are glassy.

"Sap," Steve murmurs.

"Punk." Bucky returns, using his free hand to wipe away tears that haven't yet fallen.

"Jerk." Steve responds automatically, a grin on his lip.

"Sometimes we can tell the sex of the baby," The doctor says, interrupting a little, but neither of them mind. Steve inhales sharply. They could know if they're having a little boy, or a little girl. They could start on a nursery, they could buy baby clothes, they could-

"But baby must have some modesty. I'm sorry- I can't tell." The doctor says, sounding genuinely apologetic. Steve simply gives her a smile. At least she tried.

The doctor pins his due date as May 20th 2016, which means they're getting a spring baby, and a winter pregnancy. Not too shabby, Steve thinks. At least he's not going to be overheating. They get a three photographs, one for the fridge, and one for each of them to do with as they please. They thank her, and then they go, grinning at each other the entire way home.

~*~

Bucky is reading through the naming book Natasha got them, and Steve is reading the baby book when it happens. Steve turns the page, and watches as a big red _splat_ hits it. He frowns, brow creasing, until another one hits the same spot, and then another, and another-

"Oh god," He says, bringing his hands up to his nose, kicking the baby book away. "Buck- _Bucky_ -"

Bucky looks up, immediately worried, and his eyes widen. Thankfully, he has enough experience of Steve Rogers, tiny, frail, being sick and ill and bleeding from various body parts not to panic- not even when he's pregnant. "Bathroom, come on." He says, a hand on the small of Steve's back as he ushers him to their bathroom, grabbing a wad of tissue and holding it to his nose as Steve settles on the toilet. Bucky frowns, and Steve can see him dithering. He wants to stay, and he wants to go. Eventually, he murmurs, "Wait here," and leaves the bathroom, back to the living room, by the sound of things. Not that Steve can hear an awful lot, even _with_ his hearing aid in.

Bucky comes back studying the baby book, which Steve notes has been hastily wiped over. Good job, too; that book was expensive. At least it's not ruined.

"It says here that the fourth month can cause nose bleeds, and bleeding gums, because you've got more blood in your system." He says. He looks like he doesn't believe it.

Steve nods. "I knew that."

"But are you sure it's that?" He asks, his brow creased with worry. "Stevie- are you sure you're okay?"

Steve smiles easily, and nods. When he takes the tissue away from his nose, there's no new blood, and he decides that he's fine. But Bucky still looks worried, and so Steve laughs, trying to diffuse the situation just a little. The laugh does seem to get Bucky to loosen up a little, and Steve takes the baby book from him. He needs to clean his face up, but all in good time.

"We'd be at hospital by now if I wasn't, Buck." He grins, and Bucky nods. He knows that too. "I'm fine, seriously. So's baby."

Bucky grins at that, hands immediately finding the bump, framing it either side.

"Baby's fine, Stevie's fine, I'm not a psycho anymore- we're doing pretty well, huh?" Bucky says, his smile softer now, just a curl of his lips. Steve nods, hands settling over Bucky's.

"Yeah. Yeah, we're doing okay."

~*~

He's out baby shopping with Natasha when he feels the baby move for the first time.

He giggles. Straight up giggles, and Natasha looks at him with a raised eyebrow. Steve's been fine up until this point, nothing unusual going on- he gets heartburn a lot now, nosebleeds, bleeding gums, to the point where Bucky is worried sick about blood loss. Steve tells him he's being melodramatic, but Bucky doesn't believe him.

"What?" Natasha asks. Steve shakes his head, grinning a little. "Tell me, Rogers." Natasha presses, and eventually Steve looks up from the little yellow onesy in his hands.

"I can feel it moving." He grins. "It kind of tickles. Like- like butterflies."

Natasha gives a bright, genuine smile, but when she presses her hands to his stomach, she can't feel a thing.

 _Good_. Steve thinks, quietly, to himself. It's nice to have something between just him and the baby, even if he tells Bucky about it just as soon as he gets home.

~*~

By the time Steve's gone twenty weeks, he's missed a heat, and should be going into another. The first time around was fine; there was nothing wrong. But this time, Bucky's off. He's grouchy, he's mean- he growls at the doctor when she gets too close, but for his efforts he just gets an eyebrow raise.

"Sargent Barnes," She says - because they gave Bucky his title back not too long again - her voice stern. "I can quite easily have you removed from the room."

That does get Bucky to think a little bit, but he still stands close to Steve's side, no matter how quiet he is. He tracks the movement of the doctor's hands as she presses the transducer to Steve's skin, making sure there's no unnecessary contact, no doubt.

It was like someone flipped a switch. Steve hit twenty weeks, one week off from his usual heat, and Bucky began to freak out. When Clint clapped a hand on Steve's shoulder, Bucky almost ripped it off. And when Natasha came to the defense of her beta, well- all hell nearly broke loose. Bucky had been moody ever since. He'd watched Steve like a hawk, hung around by his side, made sure no one else touched him. It was kind of endearing, for the first five minutes. Now, a week on,it's just plain annoying.

But Steve knows it's not something he can help; just something they're going to have to get used to. The baby book says that at around six months, alphas can start getting possessive and over protective, whilst an omega will probably start nesting. But Steve hasn't taken to scrubbing the kitchen floor with a tooth brush yet, so maybe he's just a little behind.

Doctor Harvey turns the transducer around over Steve's skin, and then she smiles. "There's baby."

It's so much bigger now. Bucky's tense shoulders relax just a little, and Steve gives a soft gasp. Their baby, as if it knows they're looking, squirms.

"I guess it doesn't like the attention." Harvey chuckles, and Steve smiles. There are tears in his eyes. He can see the baby move on screen, and feel it move in his stomach. It's surreal.

Bucky presses a kiss to his temple, nudging thespot with his nose.

"Now," Harvey continues, looking up at them both. "Do we want to know the sex of the baby?"

"Yes." Bucky answers immediately, and Steve looks up at him, startled. The dominance thing is starting to get old. "I mean- if you want to?"

Steve nods. He does want to. He was only unhappy out of principle.

Harvey smiles softly and moves around for a better image, before giving a soft, "Ah." She pulls the transducer away, and says, "Congratulations - it's a baby boy."

They both balk at that; tears well in Steve's eyes,and Bucky shifts to stand close to him, as close as is possible. They're having a _boy_. A little baby boy. Steve would cry, sob, but there are other people in the room.

"I'll leave you too to get sorted." Harvey says, standing. "Leave whenever you're ready, alright?"

And then she's gone. And Steve really _does_ sob, smiling as he cries into Bucky's chest.

~*~

Steve sits in the tower, wrapped up in a blanket. It's startlingly cold for April, and he needs to get warmed up. He tries to watch the TV; Bucky's down at the shooting range with Clint and Natasha, even though he all but he had to be pried from Steve's side, and it's giving Steve some time to catch up on things. Like reading the baby book, and folding clothes, and picking out furniture for the nursery.

The nursery is actually coming along quite nicely. The walls are painted pastel blue, with a coat of magnetic paint underneath - they can pin thing sup on the walls for him, when he comes along, and when he gets old enough he can put his own drawings up there. They have the crib, and the changing table- they just need other things. Like an arm chair to go in the corner, or maybe a rocking chair, and they need a cabinet for baby clothes. They still need more blankets, too, and there's no such thing as too many onesies, right?

But all of it is starting to give Steve a headache. He puts the catalog down and pinches the bridge of his nose between thumb and forefinger, and groans. His vision is swimming- he's probably been looking at the book for too long.

He decides a hot chocolate is probably in order. Having hit the third trimester, walking has stopped being an option, and from here on out, he can only waddle. That's fine. Although to be honest, he's noticed that in the last few days, his ankles have ballooned. They swollen so much faster than he was expecting, it's unbelievable.

He pushes his tiny body up from the couch, disentangling himself from the blanket. His world is still spinning, vision swimming, and before he's aware of anything, he's on the floor, on his side.

The baby.

"Steve? Steve!" It's Pepper's voice; she was the only other person in the room with him. "Steve, I'm calling an ambulance." She says. He wants to get up, but he can't. He's too dizzy. Everything is too blurry.

"Bucky." He says. It's one of two thoughts he has right now over the litany of _what the hell is happening what's going on what is this_ that sounds in the back of his head, those two thoughts being: Baby and Bucky. And because Pepper's calling an ambulance, that takes care of baby. The only thing he needs now is Bucky.

"I'll call him, sweet heart, I'll call him." Pepper says, before she begins talking to someone else, phone held up to her ear. And then- "Tony! Tony it's Steve, he's collapsed. I can't- I can't get in touch with James. I need you to-"

"I'll carry him outside," Tony says. Steve's only vaguely aware; he can't see either of them, and his hearing aid has fallen out. He keeps his hands cemented over his stomach, but he can't feel anything in particular. "Sooner we can get him in the ambulance the less damage there'll be."

Pepper must nod, or something, because then Steve's being lifted from the ground. He groans, head spinning, hands still clasped over his stomach.

"Bucky?" He asks hopefully.

"Pepper's trying to get in touch with him, Cap," Tony answers. Steve hears the ding of an elevator, feels it going down. "He's going to met us at the hospital."

Steve nods. He doesn't even feel ill, apart from the pounding in his head. He can just barely hear the sirens, but he can't see anything but a blur of colour. He notes the transition from Tony's arms to a bed, a gurney.

The seriousness of all this hits Steve like a fucking train. He lets out a sob as the ambulance lurches, putting on its siren. There's a paramedic looking him over, but he won't take his hands from his stomach.

"My baby's okay- right? He's okay, he has to be okay- What's wrong?Tell me what's-"

"Rogers," Tony says, hushing him, grabbing one of his hands so he can let the paramedic have a better look at his stomach. "Focus, Rogers. Never known you to get in such a flap. Everything's going to be fine." There's a buzz, and then a soft " _Ah_." from Tony. "Barnes is on his way to the hospital right now, says he'll meet us there."

Steve nods. He wants Bucky. He closes his eyes tight, taking his hand from Tony's to clap it over his stomach again. He tries to just not think at all until they get to the hospital.

Honestly, he's transferred to the maternity ward and rushed upstairs pretty god damn quick. They take a blood sample, they do a scan, they do a lot of listening with stethoscopes, and then every doctor in the room parts for Bucky Barnes. He doesn't have to do anything but growl- the look on his face screams _murder_ to anyone who dares to stand between him and his omega.

Steve's vision is returning slowly but surely, but he smells Bucky before he sees him. He's emitting all kinds of pheromones and hormones, tainting the clean air of the room. Steve doesn't mind. He can tell just from his scent that Bucky's angry and upset and nervous, but it's _Bucky_. That's all Steve wants.

"Steve," He says, when he catches him. He holds his hand and pushes his hair back from his forehead, looking at him anxiously. "Stevie, what's wrong? What's going on? Pepper said-"

A doctor who's definitely _not_ Doctor Harvey, their usual, laid back beta, stands at the foot of Steve's bed. He's an alpha, that much is for sure. He's giving off scents all of his own, and it's just basic biology that Steve should take not. He sits up a little off the bed, as if to get closer, and Bucky pushes him back down with a growl.

"Your partner collapsed, Mr. Barnes, and our assessment shows that's suffering preeclampsia- that is, pregnancy induced hypertension." The doctor explains. His voice sounds strained, and Steve knows why Bucky's hovering over him like he must be protected at all costs, absolutely glaring at everyone in the room. "It's very severe. We're suggesting bed rest for the remainder of the pregnancy."

And with that, he's gone. A woman in pink scrubs is left behind; she's mellow, she smells mellow, and she smiles softly. A beta. Bucky visibly relaxes, and his anger melts into worry.

"What does that mean?" He asks, beginning to fire off a thousand questions. Steve is silent. "Is the baby okay? Is Steve okay? They're not going to die are they? What's bed rest mean? What-"

"Both your husband and the baby are _fine_ , Mr. Barnes." She comforts, patting Bucky's hand gently. "Hypertension just means high blood pressure. It's what caused you to collapse, Captain. It also causes preeclampsia- which we're pretty sure you have. That's why we're putting you on bed rest."

"What's bed rest?" Steve asks. He's wedged himself against Bucky's side, and is back to worrying at his lips.

"You just need to stay in bed. You can make trips to the toilet, and you can sit up straight for a few hours max, but then you have to lie down. It should help lower your blood pressure."

Steve nods, and Bucky turns to bury his face in Steve's hair, inhaling deeply. The midwife smiles. "I'll give you two a minute," She murmurs.

They both nod, about to let her go, before Steve asks- "What's your name?"

"Kate." She answers. Steve nods again.

"Thank you, Kate." He murmurs. He feels Bucky smiles against his temple, and Steve looks up at him. "I think she should be our midwife."

"She's going to be our midwife." Steve says, and Bucky just smiles; he's not going to deny his omega anything now, is he? Especially not like this; when he's hooked up to a million different wires and dressed in a hospital gown and his hair is tousled from running his hands through it.

They want to monitor Steve for another few hours, and that's fine. Steve would stay there all damn day if he was allowed to. It takes all of ten seconds after Kate is gone for Bucky to crawl into bed beside him, an arm hooked carefully around his waist, pressed against the bottom of his bump, so that he can feel the baby move, and keep Steve safe. And Steve _does_ feel safe. He's always hated hospital, but being by Bucky's side, knowing he's protecting their baby, makes the omega side of him melt. He presses his cheek to Bucky's chest and counts his heartbeats, trying to match them to his own.

~*~

Steve is allowed to, with the instructions to use the wheelchair if he has to go long distances, and stay in bed, propped up to an angle of no more than bout 45 degrees, unless he has to use the bathroom. He can only spend a maximum of 20 minutes sat upright in one go.

He pouts the entire way home.

"It's for the best, Stevie," Bucky says, and Steve huffs, arms folded across the top of his stomach. His huffiness is a sure sign that he feels much better, and much more safe, and he knows that. He just wants to be huffy for a while longer.

"Yeah, I know." He snaps, scowling as he looks down at his feet. Well. As he looks down at his bump. He can't see his feet.

He knows that Bucky's grinning as they go, and that makes it even worse. He scowls as he's pushed back home and then carried, _carried_ \- "I can walk, asshole." "You really can't, Steve." - to bed. Bucky lies him down and props him up, and then presses a kiss to the top of Steve's head, and to his bump.

"I'll bring your stuff in. The baby books and things. Just yell if you want anything, okay?" Bucky asks. Steve nods, and then looks away. Bucky just presses another kiss to his forehead and goes.

And so begins Steve Roger's captivity.

~*~

Bucky is grossly attentive, to the point where Steve can't even be unhappy about the whole thing. His alpha does what alphas should- he takes care of him. All Steve has to do is look towards the door and Bucky immediately asks what he wants, if he's alright, does he need help- it's almost sickening, it's so sweet.

He lies on his side next to Steve, his head resting on his omega's chest. The right arm is looped under Steve's back, but it's not uncomfortable. No, Steve loves it.

"What about Robert?" Bucky asks. He's flicking through the naming book, but he's just making random suggestions.

Steve's nose wrinkles, but Bucky doesn't see it. He takes his silence as a maybe not.

"William?" Again, silence. Steve stares at the wall as he thinks about all these names, his hand in Bucky's hair. "Bobby?" Bucky looks up, his head now nestled in the crook of Steve's arm. "No?"

"I don't like any of 'em." Steve huffs, looking down at him.

Bucky smiles. "You're just picky."

"Mm." Steve hums, non-committal. Choosing names is way harder than he'd thought it would be. "I want to call him James."

"We're not calling James." Bucky says, without missing a beat.

Steve pouts. "Well why not?"

"Because." Bucky answers, looking down at the book for a second before looking back up at him. "I want to call him _Steve_."

"No." Steve answers, and Bucky nods.

"So there." He says.

Steve has lost the battle for James.

"We don't have to go for tradition names, y'know," Bucky says, his metal thumb sitting in between the pages, leaving them open. "It has a whole section of contemporary baby names-"

"Let me see." Steve murmurs, wrangling the book from Bucky's hand. He scans the page, and make a few suggestions of his own. "Uh- Aiden? Nathan? Noah? Jacks-"

"Noah." Bucky echoes, voice sounding distance. "Noah Rogers-Barnes."

"Noah Barnes-Rogers." Steve corrects. For his efforts he earns a pursed-lip look. "You like Noah?"

Bucky nods. "Yeah. Yeah, I like Noah."

"I like Noah too." Steve murmurs. He breaks into a grin as Bucky settles a hand on his stomach, lips finding the swell there. The baby has been wriggling on and off for the last hour, and though it's still now, Bucky coos at it anyway.

"We can at least have James as a middle name, right?" Steve asks, testing the waters.

Bucky huffs softly. "You can choose the middle name. Whatever you want." He promises. "Consider it compensation for being 'shut in'."

Steve grins, pulling Bucky up to kiss him. "I love you."

"I love you too." Bucky says, smiling against his lips.

They set the naming book aside; neither of them are going to need it now.

~*~

After a week of being on bed rest, Steve is actually holding up remarkably well. He doesn't complain as much, and he doesn't feel too unhappy. He feels pretty good, actually.

And yet, Bucky still comes home from team debrief to find Steve in the bathroom, huddled in the bath under a duvet.

"What are you _doing_?" Bucky demands. " _Steve_?"

There's a tooth brush on the floor, and a bucket of soapy water. Bucky doesn't even have to ask- he knows _exactly_ what's going on.

"I'm nesting." Steve snaps, pulling the duvet up to his chin and glaring at Bucky.

"I know that." Bucky nods. His voice is gentle, but strained. So very strained. "I read that part of the book. Cleaning and finding small spaces. I get it. But Stevie- the doctor said not to get up."

"Unless I needed to go the bathroom." Steve tacks on the end. "And I needed to go to the bathroom."

"He meant if you needed a piss, not if you needed to scrub the tiles with a fucking toothbrush."

"Always so crude, Barnes." Steve says, hands resting on his bump.

Bucky scowls. "Do you want to hurt our baby?"

It's harsh. It's very harsh. And when it's said with the underlying tone of an alpha, hard and forceful, well. It hurts all the more. Steve's face crumples and he shakes his head, lower lip starting to tremble. It's half because he's back to being overemotional, and half because he's an omega, and knowing his alpha his unhappy with him turns his world upside down.

"It's not like I can help it." He says, lip still quivering. "I don't want to hurt the baby. I don't- I don't want to, I-"

Bucky must realise what he's done, because he shifts, mving to the side of the tub. "I know. I know you don't, baby. I know."

Steve sniffles. "I had to. It was like- I couldn't _live_ with myself knowing that the tiles were dirty. Our baby has to live in here. Our baby-"

"Has his own nursery." Bucky points out his voice soft. He's trying to make things better. He gives a grin as he reaches out, running his hand over Steve's hair. "You're sly, Rogers. I swear to god if I have to have someone here watching you all hours of the day-"

Steve's eyes narrow. A sure sign that his mood swings are back, and that he's not upset anymore. His voice is still soft, though. "You wouldn't."

"I would." Bucky retorts. He kicks the toothbrush away and picks Steve up, carrying him bridal style. Steve mourns the loss of his duvet and gives an angry huff. "And I'm going to. If you need a babysitter, Stevie, you're getting a babysitter."

Steve is settled onto the bed, and he pouts in defeat. There's honestly not a lot he can do to stop Bucky, not when he's approaching nine months, and his due date.

He's been a mess lately. A mixture of his usual self and a quiet, shy, reserve omega, only interested in keeping his baby safe and keeping his alpha close. Instinct tells him to stick next to Bucky's side like glue, hold him, make sure he keeps them both safe. And then his own consciousness tells him to push Bucky away so he can get out of bed and go and do things like a regular person. It's a big conflict.

But instincts take over. He snuggles into Bucky's chest as soon as he settles down beside him, and decides that this is okay, for now.

~*~

Bucky really meant it about the babysitting, though.

Natasha sits cross-legged at the end of the bed, teaching Steve how to knit. She's already knit them a little blue hat, and a blanket, and now she's working on some booties. Steve may have opted out of the baby shower, but she's giving the gifts regardless.

"You're getting the hang of it," She smiles, looking over at the pair of mittens Steve has begun to make.

Steve huffs. He has to admit, it's pretty relaxing. "I'm not going to get them finished before he comes though, am I?"

Natasha smiles. "Cap, you have another two weeks in bed. I think you'll manage."

Steve manages a small smile at that. He sets his knitting down, and leans his head back against the headboard. Natasha takes that as a hint, apparently. She shifts to sit by his side, and takes his hand.

"Are you scared?" She asks.

Steve nods. "Really scared."

There's silence between them or a second, and then she gives his hand a soft squeeze. "It's all going to be okay." She says, and she gives him one the most reassuring smiles he's ever received. "Two weeks time, and you're going to be up on your feet again, with your brand new baby."

Steve smiles at that. She holds up one finished booty, and says, "And his brand new baby booties."

"And matching hat, and blanket, and mittens." Steve finishes.

He smiles, and she smiles back, and honestly it's nice just to feel genuinely calm for once, to have someone who's not his alpha reassuring him. Because surely if everyone's saying it's going to be fine, it will be. Right?

Steve sure hopes so.

~*~

He hasn't had anything to do with the nursery since being confined to bed rest, and it's killing him. So when Bucky announces that it's finally done, Steve almost runs.

As it is, he gets to his feet only to have Bucky push him back down.

"No you don't." He says, a warning in his voice. "The chair."

Steve huffs, settling down into his wheelchair as instructed. He folds his hands over his bump, but when they reach the front door, Bucky sets them over his eyes.

"No peeking." He instructs. Steve can hear the grin in his voice as he presses a kiss to Steve's temple. Steve, obedient as he never usually is, keeps his hands over his eyes and doesn't peek until he feels the chair stop, and Bucky says, "Alright, open."

It's beautiful. The walls are still pastel blue, but are now decorated with stencils of animals, around the centre of each wall, making it seem as though they're following each other. The crib has Natasha's blanket in it, as well as the blanket they bought a while ago, and there's a Bucky Bear propped up in the corner, a mobil hanging down from the ceiling. On the walls, Bucky's put up a two book shelves; one is filled with baby books that Steve didn't even know they had, and the other is filled with parenting books, and baby books. The chest of drawers, no doubt filled with their baby clothes and blankets and everything else, has a few more teddy bears on top, and the changing table and diaper genie are over in the corner. On the wall is the word "NOAH", single silver letters spelling out their baby's name, and in the corner, an arm chair, pale blue and so soft looking.

Steve claps a hand over his mouth. There are tears in his eyes, and on his cheek, and Bucky grins.

"Those better be tears of joy." He says. "I slaved away over this."

Steve just nods. "They are." He murmurs. And then, louder, more forcefully. "Come here."

He pulls Bucky down into a kiss, and convinces him that sitting the arm chair is a good idea. He sits in his lap, head pressed into the crook of his neck, breathing in his scent. It's good for them to spend as much time in the nursery as possible, now; the sooner the baby familiarizes himself with their scent, the better.

When Steve is done sobbing, and has fallen asleep in Bucky's arms, Bucky takes him back to bed. It's the first time he's fallen asleep in the nursery, and definitely not the last.

~*~

Steve spends a lot of time in it after that, reading the books, rearranging things, folding and unfolding baby clothes.

"Stevie," Bucky murmurs, standing in the doorway. They've put their 12 and 20 week scan photos up on the magnetic wall; it may as well be used as a photo wall until Noah's old enough to want his own drawings up there.

"Stevie," Bucky says again. "Stop fussing."

Steve looks up, hands still. Admittedly, he's fussing. He has been for a while. But his due date is in two days, so he thinks he's allowed to.

He's so _done_ with being pregnant. He's been pregnant for far too long. 40 weeks is standard, sure, but it's too long. He needs something to take his mind off how uncomfortable he is. He can't watch TV, and he can't read, because the sad moments make him bawl and the funny bits make him pee himself a little. He can't knit, because if he drops a stitch he loses his shit, and raising his blood pressure is a horrible idea.

So he's fussing over the baby clothes for the thirteenth time.

"Come to bed, Steve." Bucky murmurs. After worrying at his lip, Steve nods. Despite doctor's orders, he gets up and waddles to put the baby clothes back in the chest. He figures that if standing induces early labour, maybe he'll go for it. Once everything's packed away, and Steve has straightened out the blankets in the crib, and watched the mobile go round one time, he goes to Bucky's side.

"Let's go." He says softly, slipping his hand into his alpha's, and Bucky smiles.

Steve knows Bucky likes watching him waddle. Honestly, he's not been doing it a lot. He only decided upon a "well fuck, if my due date's in a few days I might as well speed things along" attitude a few days ago, but he can see Bucky grinning every time he tries to walk from one end of the room to the other.

Steve's been feeling funny all day, but he settles into bed beside Bucky regardless, and smiles softly when Bucky wraps his arms around him, trying to get as close as he can to him around the nest of pillows Steve has created.

Steve settles down, and falls asleep.

But not for long.

He wakes up in pain, curling up into himself. He can barely breathe through it; it's a miracle he hasn't woken Bucky up.

He looks at the time. 23.15.

He tries to fall asleep, when he's hit by another pain. A _contraction_ , Steve thinks, but he tells himself to shut up because he doesn't know it's a contraction yet. It could just be cramp. Or more Braxton Hicks.

Except it doesn't feel like either of those.

23.24, and he has another contraction, doubling over again with a soft, almost silent groan. It lasts another thirty seconds, and then it's over. It happens again at 23.33, and then again at 22.51, and then Steve wakes Bucky up.

"Bucky." He says softly. He shakes him. "Buck. _Bucky_." He doesn't know why he's whispering, to be honest, but Bucky wakes up regardless of his soft tone. He looks at him with a frown; he's still sleepy, obviously. He's just woken up.

"Bucky, I think I'm in labour. I'm in labour." Steve huffs, hands circling his swollen stomach as if that's going to make the contractions go away.

"What?" Bucky asks. He pushes himself up to sitting, and then to his knees, and he looks at Steve with wide eyes, "I'll call the hospital. What- how do you know?"

"Well I think the contractions are pretty solid proof." Steve says, shrugging his shoulders as if he's nonchalant. He's anything _but_ nonchalant right now. "I've had- about 4? Nine minutes apart. The last one was eight, though."

Bucky nods, reaching for his cell phone as he calls the hospital. Whilst he does that he goes and grabs the hospital bag, which they've had packed for a hell of a long time now, since early labour was an imminent threat. He throws a few extra things in, things they've needed up until now. He goes through to the nursery, and Steve can hear him pottering around as he speaks on the phone.

Steve focuses on his bump. "Not long now, Noah." He murmurs, hands pressed to the sides of his stomach. He knows where his baby's head is now, and he knows he can hear him, too. "We'll see you soon."

Bucky comes back into the room and tucks his phone into his pocket. "Come on then, Stevie." He says. "We've got to go."

"They want us now?" Steve asks. Bucky nods.

"I spoke to Kate," He says, and Steve automatically smiles. "And she said that it's probably still latent labour, but because of the preeclampsia she wants us to come down. So we have to go. Come on, shift your ass."

Steve takes another look at Bucky, and purses his lips. He's shirtless, in nothing but his underwear, and his hair is a mess.

"Bucky," Steve says. "We have time. Put some clothes on."

Bucky looks down, as if he'd forgotten that he was half naked. With a huff, he sets the baby bag down and wriggles into a pair of jeans, and a t-shirt. He slips his dog tags back into his shirt - they're Steve's actually; he started wearing them when he was getting all clingy and hasn't stopped since - and grabs the bag again, beckoning for Steve's hand.

Steve takes it, clambering out of bed in his pyjamas - he's pregnant, he doesn't have to get dressed.

They make it to the car before Steve's next contraction hits. He takes a deep breathe as the pain hits him, doubling him over. He's louder this time, groaning as he clutches at the bump.

Bucky slips into the driver's seat and reaches out for him. "Steve? Stevie, hold my hand. Hold my hand, come on, it's okay-"

"Just drive." Steve says. He reaches out and gives his hand a tight squeeze. "Just go, just go."

Bucky looks at him for a moment longer before he nods, turning back to the wheel and pulling away from the curb. It only takes fifteen minutes to get to the hospital, and another five to get to the maternity ward, but by then Steve's had another two contractions, and is going into his third by the time they get him into his own room.

Kate's on hand to help, directing the organisation, and when everyone is done scurrying, and Steve's contraction is over, she smiles. "I'm going to start prepping you for surgery." She says. "We have an operating theatre open, so we've booked you in. Whilst they're getting that ready, we're going to get you ready. That sound okay?"

Steve nods. They decided early on during the pregnancy that a c-section was probably best. Steve's just so little and so frail, and then with the preeclampsia- well, it only swayed them more.

Bucky holds his hand as Kate slips a catheter into the other, and hooks him up to some fluids. Bucky assures him that he's fine, that's he okay, but when he sees the doctor come in with the epidural, he excuses himself. Steve knows why. It's been almost two years since Bucky escape HYDRA, but he's never going to escape the memories.

"So whilst that takes effect, we'll take you down to theatre." Kate smiles. She brings Bucky back into the room first, and he presses a kiss to Steve's forehead.

"I'm sorry." he murmurs, but Steve just shakes his head, and pulls Bucky down for a proper kiss. He doesn't hold it against him, not one bit.

In theatre, Bucky's separated from him once again whilst he slips into a gown. Steve's stomach is washed, and they insert a urinary catheter - at which point he decides he's probably going to kill someone - and cover him in drapes. Then, they decide, he's ready to go.

"Would you like a mirror so you can watch?" Kate asks. Steve resolutely shakes his head.

"Not unless you want me to vomit." He replies, and Bucky snickers by his side.

It doesn't take too long. Ten minutes of tugging and pulling at his abdomen, of Bucky stroking his hair and nuzzling at his temple, and then crying fills the room as Steve feels abruptly empty.

Over the partition, the doctor holds up their wailing baby. He's gross, covered in red and purple and green icky stuff, but he's _perfect_.

"We're going to take him through to our nursery and run our checks whilst we get you sewed up again, alright?" Kate says, giving him a smile. Steve nods. "Daddy is more than welcome to come and watch through the window." She adds, and Steve looks to Bucky.

He looks torn, like he can't decide whether to go or not, and Steve frowns. "Go," He says, urging him. He shoos him. "Go on, go."

Kate chuckles as Bucky kisses him shortly, and follows her out of the room. It takes another half an hour of tugging and pulling and beeping, people shoving things into his IV, before they wheel him into the recover room-

Where Bucky and his baby are waiting for him.

They've only just parked the bed when Steve reaches out, hands grabbing for his baby, and Bucky chuckles as he settles him into his arms.

"Shush," He says. "He's sleeping."

He _is_ sleeping, and he's adorable. He's shifted into Steve's arms, and the action must wake him up, because he squirms, and his little lips stretch into an O as he yawns. Steve shifts him closer, heart thudding in his chest, and he smiles.

"Hey Noah," He murmurs. He shifts him to one arm, and uses the other to hold a finger out, which he immediately grasps. He looks at Bucky, and grins widely. "Is he okay?"

"The tests were fine." Bucky nods.

Steve nods too, looking down at their baby. Their perfect little baby.

He spends another four days in the hospital, seeing as he's had an operation, and they want to observe him. The first day the spend sleeping. Though Steve doesn't want his little baby to go anywhere, Bucky convinces him that a trip to the nursery is good for all of them; when the baby's gone, Bucky clambers into bed beside him, and they sleep.

They're woken up by Kate, telling them they have visitors: not only their baby, who is delivered back into Steve's arms with a bottle of formula - which he guzzles down like there's no tomorrow - but also Sam and Natasha, who grin as they step inside.

"Hey," Natasha says softly. She sets a bag down on the bed, and Bucky delves into it; he pulls out donuts and pastries and cupcakes, and Steve drools a little.

"You're not helping with my post-op healthy diet." He complains, looking up from his baby momentarily. When the bottle's gone, Steve sets it aside, and hands Noah over to Bucky for burping. Bucky holds him close to his chest and murmurs to him as Sam takes the spare chair, and Natasha pulls herself up on the edge of the bed.

It doesn't take long for the baby to be transferred to Natasha's arms.

"He's adorable," she says, grinning as Noah reaches out to grab a stand of her hair. "I don't know how something so gorgeous can come from two shmucks like you."

They laugh, Bucky reaching out to take Steve's hand as the baby is passed to Sam. He grins, coos at little Noah, until he breaks out into sobs.

"He doesn't like you, Sam," Bucky says, bringing the baby back into his arms with a grin. "You smelly funny. He smell funny, doesn't he Noah? Huh?"

The baby wails. He wails when he meets the rest of the Avengers too, but tricking Tony Stark into changing a diaper makes it all worthwhile.

Going home is one of the best parts. Steve can't carry the baby just yet, or should at least be careful, after the surgery, so Bucky carries him in, and sets him down in his crib. Steve nearly loses it, sobs, because it's been so long and they've been through so much and yet there it is. There _he_ is. There's their baby.

"We never talked about this in the forties, huh?" Bucky murmurs, watching as the baby shifts, and promptly falls asleep.

Steve shakes his head. It feels good to be on his feet for the first time in weeks, but he's focusing more on the baby now than his own comfort. He turns until he meets Bucky's side, his face buried in his chest. "I don't think we did."

"Wouldn't have done it if we had of." He chuckles, arms wrapping around Steve as he presses is lips to the top of his head. It's been a hell of a long road, he thinks, but it's worth it.

They spend another fifteen minutes at the side of the crib, before Steve sighs. "We should go to bed." He says.

"Yeah." Bucky echoes.

A pause. And then Steve murmurs, "I don't want to leave him."

Bucky deflates. "Me neither."

"We could sleep in the chair?" Steve suggests.

Bucky grins. "We'll sleep in the chair."

They fit together better now than they did before, when Steve was huge and pregnant, and they sleep a little easier, knowing that their baby is here. They survived the first nine months.

And now they just have to survive the next eighteen years.

**Author's Note:**

> I know I totally glossed over the war, Bucky coming back and Steve's degeneration, but that's because this fic wasn't about that, it was a totally self-indulgent fic about pregnant!tiny!steve and his alpha. Apologies for that. If anyone's particularly bothered, they can request a fic from any of those three points, or at any point in between. There's probably going to be a sequel to this too, because Stucky and small children? Yes please.
> 
> Also for the nursery, I totally was thinking about something like this:
> 
>  


End file.
